Choices
by Firinn3
Summary: A first person P/C story written as a commission for a fabulous artist.  Sorry, some of the scene breaks didn't come through...
1. Chapter 1

Choices

By Firinn

Jean-Luc Picard ruined my life.

But that's nothing new.

The stars streaked past at warp speed and reflected on the smooth surface of the PADD in my hands, but they didn't prevent me from reading the text. I'd read the message so many times I could recite it verbatim.

Yes, Jean-Luc had ruined my life once again.

_Dr. Crusher_

_Chief Medical Officer_

_USS Enterprise-D_

_Doctor Crusher,_

_We are pleased to inform you that your research paper, __**Biota In Flux: The Successful Breeding of Xanthoria Elegans in the Vaccuum of Space**__, has been chosen by the Intergalactic Science Council as the recipient of this term's Mendellian Award for Distinguished Research. _

_The award ceremony will take place on Farnaxia Prime on Stardate 46492. As is the tradition with the Mendellian ADR, in addition to the presentation of the medallion you will also be accorded two weeks' access to the ISC's xenobotany research facility on Farnaxia. _

_Sincerely,_

_Dr. Ibn Rashin_

_President_

_Intergalactic Science Council_

Farnaxia! The Mendellian was a great honour, but to be permitted to spend two weeks in the Alpha Quadrant's preeminent xenobotany facility—that's an opportunity that defies words. Any sane scientist would be piloting a shuttle at maximum warp toward his spot in history. I—apparently—am not sane as my little shuttle is travelling in the entirely wrong direction, bound for Starfleet's medical facility on Oraxes III.

Why? Two words: Jean-Luc Picard. Or is that three? Two and a half? Never mind. Regardless of how many words are in that man's name, I was missing out on a chance few scientists, and even fewer Starfleet scientists, ever receive—one no one in the history of the award has ever turned down. I'm the first. I'd love to blame him, I really would, but it's not his fault. Well, not completely.

If I were to blame him, I'd also have to blame myself, Starfleet, and the snot-nosed bureaucrat at Medical who had the audacity to question my professional judgment. My fingers ached with the need to throttle something as I thought about that anonymous twit. I vowed that when we arrived on Oraxes III, I was going to give him, or her, a piece of my mind. When I was a teenager Nana said I could slice fillets off an ox with my tongue, and I hoped my skills had not diminished with age.

Sighing, I placed the PADD on the console and turned my chair to face my travelling companion. He was sitting under one of the cabin lamps, legs crossed, a cup of tea at his elbow, reading. His world revolved around the words on the PADD in his hands. The crimson uniform looked good on him; he'd gained back most of the weight he'd lost on Celtris III, and his eyes no longer carried a slightly haunted look, but I still saw the damage that Cardassian bastard had done.

He scowled.

I love the little divot that forms above his nose when he draws his eyebrows together. I want to run my thumbs across his forehead and smooth away the tension, but that, of course, is beyond the boundaries of our relationship. "Why are you reading the memo again?"

He looked up as my voice intruded on his thoughts. God, those hazel eyes are beautiful. Almost twenty-five years after first spying them, they still make my stomach do somersaults. But he's my best friend. _Friend, Beverly—friend_. I'm not supposed to have such thoughts about my best friend. He opened his mouth to deny it, but his ears turned pink. He could never lie to me.

He sighed. "I want to understand it."

I snorted. "It seems pretty simple to me. Someone thinks you're not fit for command and they think I'm hiding that fact for you."

"Beverly," he leaned forward, "no one is accusing you of falsifying your medical reports."

The anger at the implied insult returned. "The hell they aren't! If they believed my entries regarding your mental and psychological health, they wouldn't be hauling you to Oraxes to run you through a bunch of tests like a lab rat."

"Beverly—"

"No, Jean-Luc." I didn't want to be placated. "You know I'm right. The only data Starfleet has is mine. If they trusted it, they wouldn't have sent the memo. They're questioning my professional judgment as much as your fitness for command."

"Your medical knowledge and professional comportment are beyond reproach." His eyes took on a steely glint. "I am appalled someone would attempt to tarnish your reputation to get at me."

I was stunned. I had my theories, but he'd never mentioned anything in the days leading up to the trip so I assumed I was alone in my cynicism. "You think there might be an ulterior motive behind this?"

He nodded. "I didn't want to say anything to arouse your suspicions, but it's the only thing I can think of. There is no way anyone at Medical would seriously consider questioning your judgment."

His faith in me was amazing. I lost count of the number of times I clung to his unwavering support. He believed in me. I believed in him. Regardless of the outcome for his own career, he would fight to defend my professional reputation. Now, with the possibility of unethical conduct on the part of the person ordering the tests out in the open, I had another reason to journey to Oraxes.

"If this really is a plot to oust you, the tests won't be fair."

"I know," he replied. He slid into the pilot's seat as the shuttle beeped, signaling our imminent drop out of warp speed. I turned my chair back to the console, fulfilling my role as co-pilot, entering the commands required to land the shuttle at the appropriate coordinates.

Oraxes III hung before us like a rotten lime. I'm sure it's a lovely planet, but the prospect of fighting for Jean-Luc's career as well as my reputation tinged the purple clouds with a putrescence I could almost smell.

To hell with Farnaxia, my best friend needs me. "I'm glad I came," I said quietly after he finished his conversation with the traffic control officer.

He glanced over and gave me a lopsided grin. "Me too."

As the shuttle descended through the atmosphere I smiled. Those bastards on the surface had no idea what they were about to encounter. I had Jean-Luc's back, and he had mine. My lips curled in a feral grin as I wondered if the facility would still be standing when we were through with it.


	2. Chapter 2

Choices

By Firinn

"What do you mean, 'No'?" I forced my hands to remain still at my sides as I glared at the head of the medical facility on Oraxes III. "I'm his physician. You are required to send me the results of any and all tests you run."

"Indeed we are, Dr. Crusher," replied Dr. Sho'Gul as he leaned back in his chair. "My people will send you all the data they gather in due time." His long fangs descended below his upper lip as he smiled. "Starfleet protocol dictates all data must be sent to the registered physician within three weeks of the date of the exam."

"But I'm right here!" I couldn't believe they were going to use a protocol designed to speed up information transmission times as a means of denying me immediate access to Jean-Luc's results. Was the entire universe going crazy?

"Yes," he scowled, "you are."

I grinned wryly. I'd seen the same look less than an hour earlier.

The reaction of each individual on the medical team at the landing pad had been identical when I followed Jean-Luc down the ramp. Their shock and embarrassment confirmed that this 'routine series of tests' was not as it seemed, and the abject terror behind Dr. Fischer's scowl would have made me laugh if I hadn't been seething.

Yuri Fischer had been a constant thorn in my side during my year at Medical. Ambitious, highly intelligent, and downright unscrupulous, he made no attempt to hide the fact he thought he should be the Surgeon General, not me. Seeing his pale face leading the team made me reconsider Jean-Luc's assertion that this was entirely about him. Perhaps it was initially, but Yuri's presence made that theory far less likely.

I fumed as he made the introductions. He tried to focus on the medical staff with him, but he kept stumbling over their job titles and glancing furtively at me. I refused to give him even a slight nod as he finished and Jean-Luc began his usual diplomatic thanks; tripe about how it was a privilege to work with such a highly skilled team, and how he knew he was in good hands.

As soon as he finished speaking, I stepped forward. "Dr. Fischer, may I have a word with you?"

He blanched further, darting his gaze around the hangar as if looking for a place to hide. "Uh, actually, Doctor, I'm, uh, rather busy at the moment, but if you'd like to schedule a—"

"_Now_, Dr. Fischer," I interrupted as I stepped in close, forcing him to look up to meet my gaze. Instantly everyone on his team found something fascinating on their boots or the hangar ceiling, denying him further opportunity to make excuses. Only Jean-Luc was staring openly at us. I turned, placed a hand on Yuri's arm, and guided him toward a stack of shipping containers a few metres away.

The terror drained from his face as he tried to bolster himself with righteous indignation. "Dr. Crusher, I don't appreciate being ordered around in front of my staff. I'm sure I don't have to remind you of the ethical ramifications of belittling a fellow colleague in front of his subordinates." He crossed his arms and waited for me to apologize for my lack of manners.

I wasn't going to apologize. I thought I was performing above and beyond the call of professional conduct by resisting the urge to wring his puny neck. I narrowed my eyes and let cold fury flow into my words as I spoke. "And I don't appreciate having my professional judgment questioned in front of the entire Alpha Quadrant."

His eyes widened at my vehemence. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "This isn't about you, Doctor. This is simply a routine test to confirm the captain's fitness for command." A tiny glimmer of satisfaction tinged his features as he added, "I can assure you no one is questioning your professional judgment."

I was so angry I almost hissed. "The hell they're not! I declared Captain Picard fit and now people are questioning that entry. It sounds an awful lot like you're questioning me and my ethics, _Doctor_."

"No," he replied, "these are a simple series of tests—"

"That are medically unnecessary and fly in the face of _my_ findings!"

Yuri had the sense to look slightly abashed. "Look," he said, leaning in despite my obvious ire, "I didn't order the tests. I'm just doing my job."

"And if doing your job comes with the added perk of tarnishing my professional reputation, that's just a bonus?" He blushed and looked away. "Who ordered the tests, Yuri?"

He shrugged, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Yuri..."

He glanced back at me and sighed. "Someone high in Command, all right? Now can I get back to work?"

"Who?"

He rolled his eyes, exasperated. "I don't know!" He crossed his arms again and added, "What I do know is that you aren't supposed to be here and now people are going to be cross."

"I'm not supposed to be here? The captain is my patient!" Realization crystallized in my mind as I put things together. The Mendellian! Someone deliberately scheduled these tests to conflict with the award ceremony.

"I told them you'd be angry, but they wouldn't listen," he replied sullenly. "Nobody thought you'd give up the ADR to defend an implied slight against your judgment."

"Obviously."

The shock of my presence was wearing off. "Dr. Crusher, I really need to return to my duties. If you have any further grievances about the tests, please take them to Dr. Sho'Gul." He slid between me and the canisters at his back and took off toward the nearest exit, his team quickly following on his heels.


	3. Chapter 3

Choices

By Firinn

I allowed a slow smile to cross my features as I met Dr. Sho'Gul's scowl. "Well, if you won't grant me access to the data as it's collected, I guess I'll have to gather my own."

I was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath as Dr. Sho'Gul leaned forward in his chair. I could feel his reptilian eyes boring straight through my skull with the intensity of his reaction. He quickly recovered and said, "You won't be permitted to use any of our equipment."

"Don't worry," I smiled, "I brought my own."

"And this will give you the same information that Dr. Fischer is collecting?" Jean-Luc asked as he sceptically fingered the small dermal patch under the left side of his jaw.

I shook my head. "No, but it will allow me to collect enough information via the tricorder to verify or challenge their findings." I tried to hide my anger, but my fingers trembled as I made a last adjustment to the readings on the instrument.

He smiled and my anger spiked to new heights. This man had given so much to Starfleet, more than anyone had the right to ask, and he'd done it willingly. I didn't want to count the number of times he'd put his body on the line for the ideals and values the Federation espoused. How were they rewarding him for his sacrifice? A medal, a commendation? No, the bastards were trying to force him to give up his life's blood. They wanted him removed from active service.

Jean-Luc placed a reassuring hand on my arm and I was glad the heart rate monitor was on him and not me. His hand was warm through the material of my uniform. The contact made me look into his hazel eyes.

"Thank you," he said.

I tried to smile despite my anger at the injustice of the situation. He ran his hand up my arm to my shoulder and my anger was replaced with a quivering in my stomach that was entirely inappropriate for the situation. I turned back to the data streaming across the tricorder and noted his heart rate was slightly elevated. I almost chuckled and decided there was time for a quick experiment of my own.

I leaned in close, my lips almost touching his ear, and whispered, "You're welcome." I had to bite my lip when his vitals spiked on the screen. There has always been a hefty dose of chemistry between us, but I thought I was the only one still physically affected by our close friendship. The tricorder showed that he was extremely good at hiding how strongly my proximity affected him. I made a note to coerce him into accepting a role in my next play; his acting skills were superb.

By the time Yuri and his team arrived in the observation booth, Jean-Luc and I were a professional distance apart. He was slowly limberingup, stretching his muscles, and I was ostensibly checking the readings on my tricorder. In reality, I was watching his muscles ripple under the tight-fitting grey t-shirt and shorts. If there's any consolation for missing out on the Mendellian, this just might be it.

"_Captain Picard, we are ready to begin whenever you are_." Yuri's voice grated on my nerves as it came through the speakers.

Jean-Luc nodded, looked over at me, grinned and said, "Wish me luck."

I nodded, afraid my voice would betray me. I wished him luck alright, with all my heart.

The tests began with simple measures of muscle tone and strength. Jean-Luc moved from machine to machine, lifting, pushing, or pulling weights as directed by Yuri and his team. I carefully monitored the results, keeping my eyes on my tricorder lest I become distracted, and couldn't resist feeling a measure of smug satisfaction at the results. Jean-Luc was fit for his age, _very_ fit.

After an hour, I passed him a towel and a glass of water. He sank down on a nearby bench, leaving enough room for me to join him if I wished. Under the pretext of wanting to speak without being overheard, I sat close and whispered, "You're doing fine."

He leaned away and quirked an eyebrow at my choice of words. Realizing that didn't sound very encouraging, I added, "Exceptionally well. Your scores are consistent with a healthy man twenty years your junior."

Jean-Luc leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and took another swig from the glass. He appeared to be weighing his words, sifting and analysing his thoughts in a manner I had never witnessed in anyone other than a Vulcan. Satisfied with his findings, he sat back, relaxed his shoulders, and twitched his lips in a half smile. "That will have to do."

I patted his knee reassuringly and was about to make a slightly suggestive comment about his stamina being more than sufficient when Yuri's voice cut through the air like a phaser through ballistics gel. "_Thank you, Captain. That will be all until 1300, when we will meet you at the entrance to the nature preserve. I suggest you grab a bite to eat and rest up_."

I scowled as we watched Yuri and his team exit the observation booth. I leaned over and removed the monitor from under Jean-Luc's jaw and asked, "Nature preserve?"

He nodded.

A ball of lead formed in the pit of my stomach as I made the connection. My fears were confirmed when he glanced at the tricorder and then at me and said, "How much distance can there be between both devices?"

I groaned. It seemed I had given up a xenobotanist's paradise to run a marathon.


	4. Chapter 4

Choices

By Firinn

"No!" I gasped in horror at Jean-Luc and the contraption—the deathtrap—he was holding. "There's no way I'm getting on that!"

Jean-Luc looked at the two-wheeled object propped against his legs and said, "It's no worse than riding a horse."

"And we know how much I enjoy that," I muttered under my breath as I circled the bicycle. I hadn't seen, let alone ridden, one in over forty years! And after that last spill, I swore I'd never ride one again.

"It was all I could think of on short notice," he replied. "You admitted over lunch that you'd never be able to keep up with me over 10 kilometres."

I smiled. "I'm a dancer, not a runner. If they wanted you to pump out a jazz or tap routine for five hours straight, I'd be right with you, but running... I barely passed the 7.5 kilometre run during the academy entrance physical."

He held the bike further from his body. "Well, then—"

I sighed. I had to stay with him. Leaving Jean-Luc alone with Yuri's data gatherers wasn't an option. I approached the vehicle with the same reluctance I reserved for the holodeck horse Jean-Luc coerced me onto six months ago. The small smile on his lips confirmed he was remembering the same moment.

His words were supportive, but the sparkle in his eyes gave away his obvious enjoyment of my predicament. "Come on," he said, "I'll help you."

I got on the death machine—bike—and within a few moments was wobbling my way around the gravel entrance to the nature reserve with Jean-Luc at my side. He gave me a reassuring smile and said, "Now you try it."

"What? No!" My stomach lurched as I completed a circuit on my own. "Jean-Luc!"

I took my eyes off the gravel and discovered Jean-Luc bent over, hands on knees, and shaking with laughter. I'm going to kill him. As soon as I get off this—

"Jean-Luc!" I screamed as a ploughed headlong into the shrubbery.

He was at my side within seconds, enjoyment replaced with concern. "Beverly! Are you hurt?" he asked, as he helped untangle the bike and my body from the clinging foliage.

I propped myself up against the citrus-scented leaves and smiled at him. "Nothing more than my pride," I joked. "Here," I raised my arms, "give me a hand up."

He pulled me out of the shrub and far too close to his chest. We stood there, eyes locked, and I could feel his warmth against my breasts. We weren't touching, but the nanometre of space between our bodies did nothing to limit the jump of electrons. His hands were firm against my upper arms and I placed my hands on his chest, planning to put a little space between us.

His heart was pounding through the thin shirt under my fingers. His muscles were taut and warm, oh so warm, and I couldn't help it. I closed my eyes and my push became a caress. I felt him stiffen at the intimate gesture, but I didn't stop. His hands slid up my arms to grip my shoulders, his thumbs lightly touching the bare skin above the collar of my uniform.

I gasped and my eyes flew open. His gentle touch sent shockwaves rippling down my spine, igniting a fire in my lower abdomen. He was staring intently at me, pinning me in place with his gaze. As he began to move his thumbs in tiny circles, my knees went weak and I was worried I would actually swoon.

"Jean-Luc," I croaked, my throat suddenly dry.

"Beverly," he rumbled. My insides quivered at the passion simmering beneath the simple utterance.

His gaze flickered to my mouth and back to my eyes. I smiled when I realized I had been unconsciously licking my lips. He was moving closer, slowly and inexorably closer, and I felt my body betray me one more time. My lips parted and I leaned in. I was about to close my eyes and slip off the edge of self-control into a maelstrom of sensation when Yuri's voice penetrated the haze of my awareness.

"Let's set up the monitoring gear under that tree," Yuri addressed one of his assistants. "I don't want to bake out here while we wait."

Jean-Luc was picking the last of the leaves from the spokes of the bike wheels and I was studying a nearby flowering bush when Dr. Fischer and his team rounded the path and entered the gravel clearing. I pulled the last of the leaves from my hair and walked over to my medical bag. I needed to place the monitoring patch on Jean-Luc's neck before the run, and I needed a few moments to compose myself before touching him again.

By the time he joined me, I'd brought my heart rate, breathing, and fantasies under control. I smiled at him and was pleased to note the slight flush creeping up his neck.

I placed the monitor under his jaw and couldn't help wondering if I wanted him to forget. We'd come close to crossing the unspoken line several times over the years, but one of us always had the presence of mind to keep things from getting out of hand. This time felt different. If Yuri hadn't arrived...

In all my fantasies I had never considered making love with Jean-Luc under a bush next to a parking lot, but at the time it seemed like the perfect—the only—thing to do. I shook my head as we met Yuri at the start of Jean-Luc's planned running route.


	5. Chapter 5

Choices

By Firinn

I was too old for this. What was I thinking? I made my way down to the restaurant on the ground floor of the accommodations where we were staying, trying not to hobble or show any outward signs of distress. Jean-Luc had refused all offers to treat his tired and strained muscles after the run and I, stupid, stubborn woman that I am, followed suit.

I found him sitting at a secluded table in the far corner. He was chatting amiably with the sommelier about the wine list, and looked far too relaxed to have tortured his body mere hours earlier. For a brief moment I wondered if he'd cheated and gone to the medical centre for treatment after we parted ways in the lobby, but there was no way the illustrious Jean-Luc Picard would ask for treatment of something as minor as muscle fatigue.

If he had gone to the clinic I'd never let him hear the end of it, but right now I'd gladly carry the secret to my grave just to be able to access my medical kit. Instead I sat in the proffered chair and turned my attention to the menu. As soon as our food arrived and waiter left us alone our talk turned back to the events of the day.

"So, Doctor, what's your verdict?"

I sighed. "The same as in my original report. You are in outstanding shape for a man your age." I decided a little teasing would be acceptable. "You won't be winning any Academy marathons with the time you posted, but the fact that you could still run one should count heavily in your favour."

Jean-Luc nodded but didn't look convinced. The trouble was I didn't know what to say to reassure him. Despite being present for every test and procedure, I still had no idea what Yuri and his team were looking for. All I could hope was that my data would prevent them from tampering with their results.

I sighed. "I wish I could tell you everything is going to be fine." He smiled and placed his hand over mine. The sudden rush of warmth through my chilled fingers sent a delicious shiver down my spine. "But if that were the case, we wouldn't be here in the first place."

"I am optimistic," he replied, as his thumb began to trace light circles across the back of my hand. The room temperature rose by at least a dozen degrees as a slight flush crept up my neck. "However, I wouldn't be a very good tactician if I didn't have a back-up plan."

I didn't like the sound of that. I turned my hand over and squeezed his fingers. "What are you planning?"

He took a sip of wine before replying. "There's always my home in Labarre. I could take a more active role in the family industry." My heart lurched and the blood rushed to my feet. "I could try to get an ambassadorial posting somewhere." He smiled impishly. "I do have some well-placed connections in the Alpha Quadrant."

My throat was dry. How could he even entertain the thought of leaving? He _was_ Starfleet. The _Enterprise_ was his life. I didn't even want to consider serving under a different captain. What about our breakfasts? The short time Jellico had been in command had been more than enough to convince me I didn't want to serve with anyone else. My drink shook as I brought it to my lips.

"You'd leave?" I asked, setting the glass down with more care than necessary. I couldn't look him in the eye. It would hurt too much.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he shifted in his seat. I bit my lip as my eyes were drawn to his voice; a voice tinged with such resignation I thought my heart would choke. "If they want me out, they're going to find a way to make it happen.

"Maybe not this time," he reached for my hand again and gave it a squeeze, "but I fear your efforts have only delayed the inevitable."

No! I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, to urge him to fight, to argue, cajole, persuade - anything but sit still and listen to him speak so calmly about the end of his career. The end (it took a moment to sink in) of our life together.

The sudden metallic taste in my mouth made me want to retch. I needed to move. Twisting the napkin in my lap wasn't sufficient; my fingers leapt and danced along the intricate folds, but it didn't help.

"Excuse me." I left the table.

I paced the lobby, letting my arms flap in a physical representation of my disjointed thoughts. I was torn between anger that anyone, _anyone_, would dare to end the career of one of Starfleet's greatest captains and anguish over what such a loss would cost me personally. I was such an idiot. I had kept him at arm's length, afraid to let him into my heart for fear of suffering the pain of losing him.

Somehow, despite my best efforts, he'd managed to take up residence in my soul. The pain I dreaded was working its way through my gut and would soon arrive in my chest, crushing my heart in its grip. I was such a fool to think goodbye would hurt less if we were only friends.

I stifled a bitter laugh. We'd never been 'only friends.' Sparks flew the moment we met, but his sights were set on the big chair and I was dating his best friend. He wasn't ready for a commitment and I was looking for more than a fling. We knew we were wrong for each other then and that made the situation all right. Twenty-five years later we were still pretending we weren't meant for one another.

Tiny blue fish darted among the rippling water at the base of the fountain in the lobby. He found me watching them shift and turn, my arms wrapped around my chest trying to keep the pain and cold at bay. Without a word he wrapped me in his arms and I tucked my head into the crook of his neck. The warmth and solidity of his body melted the ice encasing my soul. My thin veneer of control threatened to shatter under his gentle gesture of friendship and love.

He placed a kiss on my head, kept one arm wrapped around my shoulders, and said, "Let's go deal with our aching muscles. I don't know about you, but I could use some relief."

I gestured toward the lift. "My medical kit is in my room. I can—"

"No," he interrupted me. "I want to use a more old fashioned treatment, one that is guaranteed to relax more than just our tired joints."

I was curious about what he had planned. My muscles protested at being forced to move, and I pushed the hurt beneath my helpless anger at the situation as we slowly walked toward the doors to the hotel's recreation wing.


	6. Chapter 6

Choices

By Firinn

"Oh," I groaned as I practically oozed into the steaming pool. I had resisted the notion of changing into a highly unflattering Starfleet issue swimsuit, but the reward was worth it. The searing heat assaulted my battered muscles and the strategically placed jets pounded them into submission. If I died right now I would die a happy woman.

"Good?"

"Oh, yes."

He chuckled. The water sloshed as he adjusted his position across from me. I was tempted to see what he was doing, but my eyes were closed and my head was tilted back against the edge of the pool. Lids that were too heavy to lift flew open as something grabbed my leg and lifted it off the floor. I almost made a fool of myself in the water before I realized the offending hands were Jean-Luc's—and they were doing deliciously wondrous things to my leg.

"Oh!"

"Good?"

"Yes. Don't stop." I lost all track of time in the humid bliss. I was sure I had stayed awake, but I opened my eyes to discover I was leaning against Jean-Luc's chest with his arms wrapped lightly around my waist. I had no idea how I got there, and for once I wasn't about to ruin it by thinking too much.

His baritone rumbled through my chest as he murmured, "Are you relaxed?"

"Oh, yes."

"You would agree that this course of treatment is effective?"

"Oh, yes."

"Shall we exit the pool?"

"I don't think I can." I smiled and I could feel him smiling too. "I do believe my limbs have turned to jelly."

If I hadn't been in such a fog of relaxed bliss I would have caught the mischievous tone in his reply, and may have been ready for what was to come.

"Really?" His chest shook as he laughed. I should have been on guard, but instead I let the timbre of his voice lull me further into a semi-conscious state. "I think I can help you with that."

"Jean-Luc!" I shot across the small pool, screaming, splashing, and laughing. "I can't believe you did that!" I panted as I turned to face my attacker. He was grinning like a schoolboy and despite my shock, I couldn't help but smile back.

"I always wondered," he said.

"Wondered what?" I replied, watching for any sudden movement.

"If you were ticklish." His satisfied smirk sparked a fire in my chest.

His impudent actions deserved punishment. Moving as slowly and languorously as possible, I moved toward him, keeping his eyes locked with my own. I ran my hands up his thighs and across his chest. I knew I had his undivided attention when I brought my face within an inch of his and said, "And now you know."

"Yes." It came out as a croak. I smiled. This was going to be fun.

I broke our gaze and focused my attention on his lips as I asked, "And do you know what I've always wondered?" I let my thighs brush against his as I allowed my body to float even closer. I returned my gaze to his hazel eyes.

He cleared his throat to speak, and unable to do so, simply shook his head.

I leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I've always wondered the same thing."

The pool exploded as Jean-Luc sprang into motion. Apparently his underarms were just as ticklish as my ribs. I was laughing so hard I didn't see him coming. The next thing I knew our arms and legs were tangled together as we fought to tickle the other into submission. Somehow I managed to acquire one of his feet, but that was short-lived when he countered with an attack to the back of my knee.

We were forced to cease our struggle when one of the hotel staff came to investigate the commotion. Flushed and giggling like teenagers up to no good, we assured the lifeguard that we were fine. Rolling his eyes, the blue-skinned employee moved away.

I smiled over at my partner in crime and something clicked. I'd be damned if I was going to lose him for any reason. Him. Us. It felt right. I'd been a fool for fighting it for so long. My smile faded as I stared at the man I loved. I was hopelessly, helplessly in love with him and finally ready to admit it.

I slid through the water toward him. He watched but made no move to stop me. I let the current push my body against his as I placed my hands on his chest once more. My lips brushed his ear lobe as I whispered, "I think we should finish this in a more private location."

"I am prepared to concede the battle to you, Doctor." His reply was strained.

I darted my tongue out and licked the edge of his ear, sending shockwaves rippling through us both. "I wasn't referring to the tickling." I pulled gently on his earlobe with my teeth and was rewarded with a sharp hiss.

"Doctor," came his hoarse whisper.

"Mmmm?"

He pushed my shoulders away, forcing me to meet his gaze. He didn't speak. He searched my face for the answer to his question, and finding it, pulled me into a long tender kiss. His hands began to wander under the surface and I broke the kiss long enough to whisper, "Jean-Luc? Somewhere more private?"

He nodded, but the desire in his eyes made me wonder if we would make it to either of our rooms.

Jean-Luc's chest was far more comfortable than the backrest of the bench in the shuttle's cabin. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so content. Even reading the summary of the Mendellian award ceremony failed to erase the faint smile plastered to my lips.

"I'm sorry you missed out on that," Jean-Luc whispered as he peered at the PADD in my hands.

I gave the arm around my waist a reassuring caress and replied, "Yes, it would have been exciting to win." I shifted so I could look him in the eye. "But no award in the universe is worth losing my best friend for. Besides," I grinned impishly, "the look on Yuri's face when I countered each finding in his report was priceless."

He chuckled. "I'm sure the fact that the Surgeon General and Admiral Torres were on the video screen had nothing to do with the level of personal satisfaction you derived from the experience, did it?"

"Oh, no," I replied, eyes as wide as possible. "I was simply doing my job as a medical professional."

Jean-Luc kissed my forehead. "And I appreciate your devotion to detail. I don't know how to thank you."

"It was purely self-interest." I teased. "I couldn't let them tarnish my reputation, and I didn't want to lose my favourite breakfast companion."

"Mmm," Jean-Luc pulled me closer. "I think we may have to start eating something more substantial than coffee and croissants. I'm finding I am far hungrier in the morning than I used to be."

"Yes," I set down the PADD and twisted in his arms. "As long as we don't over indulge."

"There are some things I will gladly over indulge in," he said as he ran his fingers teasingly up my side, "but breakfast is not one of them."

"Jean-Luc, you are incorrigible!" My heart rate increased as memories of his recent 'indulgences' flashed through my mind.

"I'm just trying to stay in peak condition," he replied. "I wouldn't want my physician to find me lacking."

I laughed. I had no idea how we were going to keep this a secret when we returned to the ship. I didn't know if I even cared. I was so damn happy. I straddled his lap and purred into his ear, "Yes, and I will be monitoring your physical health very closely, Captain."


End file.
